


Not Your Journalist

by Ollieollieupandfree



Category: Markiplier Egos, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: "Hey what if i projected my traumas onto Wilford", A. Mark is a superhero, A.Mark is a really bad dude in this, AND THIS WAS BORN, Abe and Wilford are best friends, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, And it's only fake on one-side, Brother/Brother Incest, But not from A.Mark, But not in a good way, Darkiplier Mark Fischbach, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Forced Marriage, Forced Relationship, Foster Care, Foster Sibling Incest, Guys you really need to heed the warnings here i won't listen if you complain after reading them, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It's not technically forced but it is coerced and that's pretty much the same thing, M/M, Non-Consensual Public Displays of Affection, Non-Consensual Touching, Not really forced MARRIAGE but forced engagement, Nothing but the kissing is graphic but you should be careful, PLEASE HEED THE TAGS, Public Display of Affection, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Incest, Tags will be updated as you all ask me to, The Damien/Wilford tag is only there because they didn't have a darkstache tag, This was born out of my want for a superhero/journalist fic but then I thought, WARFSTACHE Tonight is like a parody of Stephen Colbert, Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel Needs a Hug, Wilford has PTSD, Yah like I said Mark is really creepy here, if none of you cowards are going to address it i will, oh wait i also forgot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21737857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ollieollieupandfree/pseuds/Ollieollieupandfree
Summary: Wilford really doesn't know how he got stuck in this situation. One minute he's doing his job, the next he's suddenly in a relationship he doesn't want with a person he barely knows!Marksman is the city's hero, and he's saved Wilford on more than a few occasions, but that doesn't mean that he has any right to kiss Wilford! That's ridiculous! Wilford will not stand for this!Except... Ratings are going up, and so is the morale of the citizens. And what's Wilford supposed to do, ruin all that by outing their precious hero as a sexual predator? And it was just a few kisses, anyway. No way this could get worse, right?But it very much can get worse, and Wilford doesn't quite know how to stop it. He doesn't want this, but he can't just ruin everything the studio is built! Not when all it takes is a silly little relationship. A relationship that gets harder as Wilford grows closer to the supervillain that visits him at night- and is the only one who knows the truth of his relationship.
Relationships: Abe | The Detective & Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel, Damien | The Mayor/Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel, Darkiplier/Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel, Mark Fischbach/Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, listen. Actor Mark is not a good dude in this. He's creepy and it gets worse. So you need to read the warnings and really know that this is something you're comfy reading before you do.
> 
> If you complain to me, I will delete it. I warned you in the archive warnings, the tags, and here. This story will have some fun parts, but it's pretty dark.
> 
> This Chapter: After a fight between Marksman and Darkiplier, Marksman kisses a certain pink-and-yellow journalist, and Wilford is left wondering why no one can see it wasn't what he wanted.

Fights were, in the opinion of one Wilford Warfstache, the hardest things to report on. Mainly because he was often part of them (You get kidnapped once and suddenly you’re fair game. Honestly!), and because being a veteran always made explosions hard. But Wilford was a professional, and so he reported on the fight behind him.

Nobody really knew what initiated the fight this time. Maybe it was Darkiplier just wanting to start a fight, or maybe Marksman found out something that the villain had yet to reveal.

“And so we wait,” Wilford said to the camera, mostly ignoring the fight behind him. “We can only hope that our hero and protector is, once again, able to defeat the villain…”

Dark growled and ducked a punch from the hero. “I haven’t even done anything!” he yelled, countering Marksman’s blows.

“Oh, you’re always planning something, you villain!” Marksman responded, landing a punch right in Dark’s gut. Dark gasped and coughed up blood, backing away from Mark.

“Shit,” he growled, looking down at the gathered journalists. None of them were close enough to actually hear him, so there was that victory at least. Dark growled again and summoned his duplicates, using them to surround Marksman and trap him in.

The fight seemed to continue for hours, although it was probably only half an hour. A lot of the journalists had left- either to chase some other story or get something to eat. But one always remained; the pink-haired Wilford Wafstache. Warfstache’s show - aptly named WARFSTACHE Tonight! although it was actually on at most times - was the number one show for heroes and villains.

And it showed, as he was often put into a Lois Lane role, acting as a damsel in distress for Marksman to rescue. And if the other journalists were to be trusted, the two’s relationship was more than just that between a hero and a citizen.

Dark waved his hand and one of his duplicates swooped down and grabbed Warfstache, putting a gun to his head. Warfstache sighed audibly into his microphone, and the watching citizens screamed.

“Let him go!” Marksman yelled, hovering about fifteen feet from the journalist anxiously. The duplicate lifted off, flying next to Dark, still holding Warfstache tightly.

“Not the best thing to demand,” Wilford yelled, looking at how far from the ground he was.

“I would catch you,” Mark said, winking dramatically. Wilford’s cameraman zoomed in on the trio, catching the dialogue. “After all, I can’t have you falling for me twice!”

“I am not in love with you!” Wilford screeched, launching his microphone at the superhero carelessly.

Marksman laughed heartily. “Of course not, darling. I can be discreet~” Marksman winked again and Wilford squirmed uncomfortably.

“Please, just drop me,” he groaned.

Dark was confused, to say the least. If the two were truly together, why did Wilford seemed so loathe to admit it? Unfortunately, it took quite a bit of concentration to keep his duplicates up. And being confused ruined that concentration, as seen by the pink-and-yellow journalist now plummeting to his death.

Marksman yelled in protest and immediately plummeted downwards, catching Wilford quickly. Wilford, seemingly far too spooked to keep up his act of pretending to hate Marksman, clung to the hero tightly. Dark stared in shock. He’d never meant to actually hurt the journalist! Just to scare him, and get Marksman off his back! Dark swallowed anxiously and flew away, panic growing in his throat.

Marksman landed gently, still holding Wilford. Wilford clung tightly to the superhero, hiding his face in his neck. Marksman laughed softly and rubbed his back comfortingly, setting his feet on the ground.

“Are you all right, Wil?” Marksman asked, cupping the journalist’s tearful face.

“I’m fine,” Wilford muttered, leaning into his hand. All the remaining journalists immediately zoomed in on the pair, focusing on their faces. “That just scared me…”

“I know, darling,” Marksman said, rubbing his tears away. “But I’ll always be there to catch you.”

Wilford nodded, a similar memory tugging at the back of his mind. Although it was quickly pushed out as the superhero leaned forward and kissed him. Wilford’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to protest, although Marksman only took it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Wilford fisted his hands in the superhero’s cape, trying to push him away. Marksman, for his part, only tightened his grip around the journalist’s waist and pulled him closer. Eventually, Marksman pulled away, licking his lips and breaking the small string of saliva that still connected their lips. Wilford opened his mouth to reprimand the man for kissing him without permission, but it was quickly drowned out by the cheers of the crowd.

Wilford looked around and blushed brightly as he registered the audience- including cameras that were now live.

“Jim!” Wilford yelled at his cameraman. “Turn that camera off! Now!” The other journalists laughed, making jokes about Wilford being embarrassed about having his relationship revealed.

“I…” Wilford looked around at the happy faces, still held tightly by the superhuman Marksman. “I have to go,” he said quickly, ducking out of Marksman’s arms and running toward his news van.

“Aw, not to worry,” Marksman said to the cameras and gathered citizens. “My Wil’s always been the shy type! I’m sure he’ll warm up to the idea of us being public!”

  
  
  


Back at the studio, Wilford locked himself in his dressing room, ignoring even as his friends pounded at the door.

“Wilford!” a woman’s voice yelled. “Get out here, right now!” Wilford frowned at the sound of his producer’s voice, awkwardly stepping out of the dressing room and taking his toothbrush out of his mouth. He’d brushed his teeth three times now, and still couldn’t get the taste of Marksman’s tongue out of his mouth.

“Hey, Katherine,” he said awkwardly. “What can I help you with?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dating Marksman?”

“I’m no-”

“This is great news for the station, Wilford! Can you imagine how many more views we’ll get, now that people know you’re dating America’s biggest superhero?”

“I-”

“We have to use this to our advantage! Oh, we could get him on your show again! I know you’ve interviewed him a few times, but I think we can bump Bezos to tomorrow, he won’t mind.”

Wilford gave up trying to protest, instead just following his producer down the hall dumbly as he listened to all her ideas.

“Do you have a way to get in contact with him?” she asked, looking back at Wilford.

“N-not really, but he shows up at my apartment sometimes. Likes to check up on me and all that,” he said faintly.

“Good. Go there now, and see if he comes. This will be wonderful!”

Wilford nodded and went back to his dressing room, cleaning up his face and mustache before leaving the studio quickly. He’d be back soon enough, probably with a superhero in tow. Hopefully with a superhero in tow. He didn’t want to know what Katherine would do if he returned alone.

Wilford sighed as he walked up to his apartment, ignoring the scattered congratulations from his neighbors. This was shaping up to be quite a horrible day. He really just wanted to lay in bed and go to sleep until he was forced to go back to the studio. But he made a promise, and he needed Marksman.

Wilford looked around his apartment, trying to be casual as he made himself a sandwich. It took enough time of Wilford acting casual that he wasn’t going to work, but that hope was quickly proved wrong when he felt arms wrap around his middle.

“Good afternoon,” Marksman purred, resting his chin on Wilford’s shoulder.

“Hello,” Wilford greeted, gesturing to the extra sandwich. “I made you something to eat. In the shows, heroes get tired after using their powers, so they have to eat more. Is that okay?”

“That’s perfect,” Marksman responded, kissing Wilford’s cheek. “Were you waiting for me?”

“Yes. I have a question for you.”

Marksman nodded and started eating, looking at Wilford curiously. 

“My producer wants you on the show tonight. She thinks that people seeing us interacting outside of combat will help boost morale around the city.”  _ And ratings. _

“Well, I’m always open to interacting with my favorite journalist~” Marksman purred, kissing Wilford’s cheek again.

“Right. Good. I’m glad. You’ve been on the show before, do you remember the procedure?”

“Of course.”

Wilford nodded awkwardly. “Is there something I can call you other than Marksman? Just in private, I mean?” he asked, although he didn’t exactly plan to interact with Marksman that much.

“I suppose Mark works,” Mark said, scratching under his cowl slightly.

“All right. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mark,” Wilford said, sticking out his hand for Mark to shake. Mark set his plate to the side and grabbed Wilford’s hand, pulling him against his chest and kissing him again. Wilford moved to protest again, but Mark once again took the opportunity to put his tongue into the journalist’s mouth.

Mark lifted Wilford onto the kitchen island, moving between his legs and kissing him deeper. Wilford hesitantly returned the kiss, leaning into the hand cupping his face. Mark laughed softly and pulled away to breathe before trailing kisses down Wilford’s neck.

“M-mark,” Wilford said, scrambling to push him away. “Mark, stop. I need to get back to the studio…”

Mark hummed lightly and sucked a few marks into Wilford’s neck before pulling away. “Sorry, darling. I just got distracted.”

“I could tell,” Wilford responded, hopping off the counter. “I have to go, and I’d prefer leaving knowing you were out of the house. Nothing against you being here, but you don’t have a key.”

Mark nodded and left out the window, leaving Wilford to sigh deeply and scrub stubbornly at his neck. At a knock on his window, Wilford sighed and turned, expecting Mark to be there again. So it was a shock to see Darkiplier standing awkwardly on the fire escape.

“Wh-what are you doing here!?” Wilford demanded, stumbling back from the open window.

Darkiplier climbed through the window. “Whoa, hey, no! I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, holding his hands up. “I wanted to apologize. For earlier. I just meant to scare you, but I lost concentration. Are you hurt?”

“Not at the hands of you, no,” Wilford sighed, scratching the back of his head. “Put your hands down and come inside before people see you. Who knows if Marksman already knows you’re here…”

“What, does he have surveillance on your apartment?” Darkiplier asked, mostly joking.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he did,” Wilford grumbled. He looked at the sandwich he had made for himself, then pushed it towards Darkiplier. “Hungry?”

“Not really. And I take it you aren’t, either?” Darkiplier asked.

“I don’t see why it’s any of your business, but no. I’m not.”

“Can I ask why not?”

“Also not your business.”

“Does it have something to do with Marksman kissing you?”

“You saw that, did you?”

“Yes. You didn’t seem to enjoy it.”

“Well, as he said, I’ve always been the shy type. He just surprised me.”

“So you quite literally struggling against him was just you being shy?”

“If you’re going to start stalking me, I’ll call Mark back here.”

“No, you won’t,” Dark said, stepping closer to Wilford a bit. “You don’t want him to come back here. You don’t want him to do that again.” He lifted his hand and pressed gently against the hickeys Mark left behind. Wilford flinched back, dropping and kicking Dark’s legs out from under him.

“Whoa, what!?” Dark asked, staring shocked up at Wilford.

“Why does everybody forget that I’m a colonel with the US marines!?” Wilford huffed, standing and putting the kitchen knife he’d grabbed back into the knife block.

“You’re a  _ what _ ?” Dark asked, still in shock.

Wilford rolled his eyes and pulled Dark to his feet. “Get out of my apartment, I need to get to my studio.”

Dark nodded and left, a new respect forming for the journalist.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Welcome to chapter two! I probably won't update as often as I am right now, but oh well.
> 
> As always, you can find me on my tumblr @we-need-a-sexy-skeleton!
> 
> This Chapter: Marksman makes his appearance on WARFSTACHE Tonight. Wilford almost falls (again), the "couple" play the dating game, and Wilford has a surprise visitor in hair and makeup.

Wilford straightened his bow-tie, looking in the mirror of his dressing room to make sure he was presentable.

“Okay,” he muttered, fixing his hair. “Introduction, opening monologue, then guest. The introduction is by Katherine, so I don’t have to memorize that. The monologue is basic headlines, a few jokes. Maybe a few gay jokes that make my sponsors mad…”

Wilford nodded and took a deep breath, walking out of his dressing room and petting his mustache into a more firm state. He stood next to one of the PA’s, waiting for his queue to go on stage and silently running through the monologue to himself.

“You ready?” the PA asked, looking at Wilford. “Blend your foundation a bit.” She gestured down his throat to one of the hickeys. Wilford winced and quickly covered it up. She sent him an apologetic look, ushering Wilford on stage.

Wilford quickly walked out on stage, waving the crowd. He walked around a bit, giving some of them high-fives and accepting the gifts people occasionally brought him. This was always one of his favorite parts of the night- getting to interact with his audience. And they were always so excited for his opening monologue, cheering and laughing at all the right parts. 

Wilford settled down in his chair, quieting the audience. “All right, all right. Now, we’ve had a last-minute change of guest- so those of you here for Jeff Bezos better get out of here!” the crowd laughed, but no one left. “Bully! Now. My next guest is someone you all know and love. He’s saved the city more times than I can count- and been on this show even more! I’d like to, once again, introduce you all to my dear friend, Marksman!”

Mark smiled and waved to the crowd as he walked on stage, going over and kissing Wilford’s cheek as he sat down. If the crowd noticed Wilford flinch, nobody commented on it.

“So. Good job this morning,” Wilford congratulated. “Although I’m not all too happy about being a part of it.”

“Ah, when are you ever,” Marksman responded, ever his charismatic self. “And thank you. I’m always happy to save the city. And you~”

Wilford forced himself to laugh. “How sweet of you. We’re all very grateful for your help; I can’t imagine where the city would be without you! Or where I would be!”  _ Interviewing Jeff Bezos and significantly more comfortable, _ he thought.

Mark grinned and took Wilford’s hand. “Well, I’ll always be here to save you.” he paused and flushed. “I mean. The city. Well. You and the city. The city and you.”

_ ‘Damnit, he’s charming,’ _ Wilford thought, withdrawing his hand from Mark’s grip and pulling out a stand of cardstock. “So. Earlier on Twitter, we asked our followers to send in questions for you. Are you open to answering them?”

“Of course, darling. I live to please, you know that!”

“Don’t I just,” Wilford replied, barely keeping himself from throwing up and his voice cheerful. “All righty. Question One; When and how did you first realize you had powers?”

Mark hummed lightly, grabbing Wilford’s hand again and idly messing with his fingers. Wilford’s smile became a tiny bit more strained, but he didn’t take his hand away. “When I was about ten. Someone very special to me fell down the stairs and, the next thing I know, I was flying with them in my arms. Luckily, they don’t seem to remember, or I’d probably be in trouble.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Well, it was my fault they fell down the stairs in the first place. We were playing and I got a bit too excited and they fell down the stairs.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, are they doing all right now?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t spoken to them in a while. Well, not as myself, at least.” Wilford hummed understandingly and squeezed Mark’s hand. The superhero grinned and kissed his knuckles.

“Are you okay to move onto the next question?” Mark nodded and Wilford flipped the cardstock. “Ah, here’s a good one. Do you still work out, or is everything natural?” he wiggled his eyebrows at the last bit, as he would with any other guest, and desperately hoped it didn’t give Mark any ideas.

“You’ll find out soon, darlin’~” Mark joked. The crowd wolf-whistled and Wilford barely kept himself from cringing. “No, but yes, I do still work out. Whether I have my powers or not, I like to look my best. It makes no sense for me to have the strength without having the muscles.”

Wilford forced a grin. “And what impressive muscles they are. Question thr-” Wilford looked up as someone shouted something from the audience. “Ah. They’d like you to demonstrate your strength.”

“Gladly,” Mark said, easily lifting Wilford’s desk and chair, still with Wilford sat in it.

“Well then! That desk was bolted down, but I suppose we can fix it later,” Wilford joked, gripping the edge of the chair for stability.

“Don’t worry, dear, I’d never let you fall!” Mark set the desk down and tossed the chair up, quickly setting the chair itself down and catching Wilford in his arms. Wilford cried out and hid his face in Mark’s neck, a bit startled. The crowd cheered and Mark kissed his forehead, setting him down.

“W-well,” Wilford huffed, letting go of Mark and sitting back down. “I think we’ve discovered a new fear of mine, everybody. Being dropped by superhumans!” The crowd laughed. “Question Three; Do you ever feel like giving it all up and just being normal?”

“I have,” Mark admitted, scooting closer to Wilford and holding his hand with one hand, placing the other on the journalist’s thigh. “I’d love to have a normal life with you. But I’m one of the only people like me. I have to protect everyone. But maybe, one day, when I can safely hand off the city to someone else.”

Wilford smiled faintly. “I’m glad that we have someone as dedicated as you to protect the city.” Of course. That was why Wilford was letting this happen. Because Mark was a good man if a bit enthusiastic. He deserved for Wilford to give him a chance. Right?

“So! What’s the next question?”

“Do you have a day job?”

“I act as a hobby, but I’m probably not that good! My family is actually pretty rich, so I’m able to capitalize on that.”

“Do you ever think you’ll retire?”

“One day, hopefully. After all, we aren’t even married yet, and I already have our kids’ names picked out. I would hate to ruin all those plans!”

Wilford laughed nervously, but nobody seemed to notice.  _ Nope. Nevermind. He’s a perv.  _ “Well, we have quite a ways to go before either of those things.”  _ You can start by asking before kissing me…  _

“Oh, I know, but a boy can dream can’t he?”

“He certainly can. What’s your favorite part of the job?”

“Getting to see you~” Mark joked. “I’m joking. Well. I mean. Seeing you is, of course, always a bonus. But my favorite part of the job is being able to help people. People feel safe enough to come up and ask me for help, and I love that.”

“Did you ever think you’d be a role model?”

“I think every kid hopes they’ll be a role model, but I don’t think it was something that ever crossed my mind as a possibility. Although I have always wanted to be a hero.”

“That’s a very good answer. Do you rehearse that in the mirror?”

“Every night before bed.”

“I think I’d like to see that,” Wilford said, without thinking about how it could be taken.

“I’d like to show you~”

Wilford blushed faintly and cleared his throat, moving on to the next question. “If you could have any other power, what would it be?”

“Hmm. I think teleportation would be cool. Get anywhere instantly.”

“I think I’d choose shapeshifting,” Wilford commented absently.

“Aw, but why? I love your shape exactly as it is~”

“Well, someone is certainly flirtatious tonight! Hoping for a goodnight kiss, are you?” Wilford replied, noticing Katherine urging him to flirt from backstage.

“Oh, aren’t I always~?” Mark responded, leaning forward and puckering his lips.

“You’ll have to try harder than that, big guy,” Wilford laughed, standing. “I have just been informed that we have a surprise, so if you will just follow me to the center stage.” Wilford turned to walk to where he delivered his monologue. He was, however, quickly stopped by Mark grabbing his hand and pulling him back. The hero swiftly dipped Wilford, holding him easily as he kissed him.

Wilford, understandably so, panicked. Kissing him was one thing. Kissing him in a way that meant he had no feasible way of safely fighting back was something entirely different! Wilford eventually settled on closing his eyes and returning the kiss, hesitantly wrapping his arms around Mark’s neck.

Mark pulled back, pulling Wilford to his feet easily. “Well, it would seem I’ve gotten my goodnight kiss anyway,” he joked, ruffling Wilford’s way in an uncomfortably familiar way. Wilford stared after the superhero, dumbfounded.

“What the fu-” The sound guys played a large beep over his curse. The host quickly shook it off and followed Mark over to the apparent surprise.

“Well, this looks like an off-brand Dating Game,” Wilford commented, quirking an eyebrow. “Shall I have to choose Marksman from two other contestants?”

“Actually, this is an internet trend that our followers on Twitter have been rather insistent that you two play,” Katherine said.

“Ah. Oh! Ladies, gentlemen, and all other configurations of being, this is my producer Katherine. Katherine, it’s a pleasure to have you on the show again.” Katherine nodded and gestured for the two to sit down on a stool. Wilford gratefully sat, babbling nonsense under his breath as Katherine explained the rules.

He took his whiteboard in hand, doodling a pink mustache in the corner. “For those of you who are just willingly tuning in, not paying attention, or both in my case, the tules are such; Katherine asks a question, and we both answer, and then we determine the correct answer. Katherine, what’s our first question?”

“When and how did you two meet?”

Wilford thought for a moment, before writing it down. Next to him, Marksman wrote furiously.

“Wilford, you answer first.”

Wilford cleared his throat; “I was just getting started on WARFSTACHE Tonight and Katherine somehow got you to to be interviewed, even though I was completely new to this whole this.”

Mark looked confused, and Katherine gestured for him to answer. He turned his board around to show the audience. “You were eight, and I was ten. You threw an orange at my head because I accidentally looked up your skirt at the playground.”

“I-” Wilford looked confused. He could barely remember that happening. “What!?”

Mark nodded awkwardly. “Yeah. You’re older brother was in my class and beat me up over it. Though I think I got a few hits in.”

Wilford thought for a moment. He supposed he did remember Mark coming home from school with a few bruises when they were younger, but the whole event sounded wrong. Like it was told from the wrong perspective. The audience, nonetheless, laughed- whether at the idea of Marksman ever being beaten in a fight or accidentally looking up someone’s skirt, Wilford wasn’t shy.

“Marksman, we’re giving that one to you,” Katherine said. Marksman pumped his fist in the air triumphantly, and Wilford nodded absently.

“That was the first time I’d ever met mark, too,” he muttered, too low for anyone to hear but him. “I’d just been fostered…”

“Where was your first date?”

Oh, this one, Wilford knew. Or, rather, he thought he knew what Mark would count as their first date.

“Gentlemen, answers?”

Wilford cleared his throat. “You’d just saved me from The Author for the first time, and we went to get ice cream. You ended up with a popsicle on your face because earlier I’d thought you were a goon and smashed a chair over your head.”

Mark quirked an eyebrow and flipped his board, showing the same answer. “Not quite your most conventional first date, but I rather liked it.”

“The goal of the game is for you two to have equal points, so while we’d usually give you both a point, we’re just going to give Wilford one.

“This is more of an opinion one, but what was your first impression of each other?”

“Well, given what we’ve qualified as our first meeting, I probably thought you were a pervert,” Wilford said, only half-joking.  _ Not that that impression has changed much. _

“Well,  _ I  _ thought you were beautiful, so I guess we know who the romantic is,” Mark joked, kissing Wilford’s cheek lightly.

“Marksman, when did you first meet Wilford’s family? Other than his brother beating you up.”

Wilford wrote down the answer, which was a rather short one. When the two flipped their boards, it had the same message; “I/He hasn’t”

“Good, points to you both. Who said I love you first?”

Wilford frowned. He didn’t remember Mark ever saying that, not in as long as they’d known each other. Wilford quickly jotted down a “We haven’t”, but Mark’s answer seemed to take much less time. They flipped the boards, and Wilford was immediately uncomfortable.

“Wh-when did you say that?” he asked, trying to make it seem like he was fine.

“Oh, you were asleep,” Mark answered, which immediately put Wilford on edge even more. “I didn’t know if I’d be brave enough to say it when you were awake…”

“I…” Wilford looked at the audience, then back at the vulnerable superhero in front of him. The words tasted horrible, even before he said them out loud. “I-I love you, too.” Mark grinned wide and pulled the journalist into a hug, leading to his stool knocking the hero’s stool out, and sending the two sprawling.

Wilford squeaked lightly as Mark rested his hands on his hips, laughing.  _ ‘If I had my gun, I would shoot you right here,’  _ Wilford thought, even though the bullet would just ricochet and probably hit himself.  _ ‘I don’t think that would be that bad…’ _

“Perhaps we should get up,” Mark suggested. Wilford nodded and immediately scrambled up, focusing on fixing the stools while the crowd cheered and Mark laughed.

“I think we should go to commercial,” Wilford said, waving to the cameras, who panned away to commercial.

“Four minutes until live!” one of the PAs called. Wilford nodded and walked over to the audience. He always spent his commercial breaks interacting with the audience, giving autographs and just talking to them in general.

“Mr. Warfstache, they want you in hair,” one of the PA’s said. “Something about your hair getting messed up when you fell..”

Wilford laughed and bid his audience goodbye, walking back to hair. “Hey, Lindsey,” he greeted absently, looking around for his usual hair gel.

“Who’s Lindsey?” asked a voice. Wilford turned around and almost fell into the vanity, staring at Darkiplier.

“What th-” Dark rushed forward and slammed a hand over Wilford’s mouth, trying to shush him.

“No, no, don’t scream. I’m not going to hurt you,” he hissed. “Don’t scream, okay?” Wilford nodded. “You’re gonna scream as soon as I take my hand off, aren’t you?” He shook his head, then paused, and shrugged. Dark sighed and took his hand off of Wilford’s mouth.

“I’m sorry for scaring you. Again.”

“You seem to be doing that a lot.”

“I actually wanted to see if you were okay. I was watching the show, and you seemed really uncomfortable.”

“Not any more uncomfortable than I am right now,” Wilford sighed, fixing his hair and mustache. “Where’s Lindsey?”

“Oh, uh. I told her you wanted to see her on set. She’s probably rather confused.”

“As am I. Why do you seem to care about this so much?” Wilford huffed, walking out of the room and back towards set.

“Look, I’m just worried, okay? I know that Mark can be a jerk, so…”

Wilford whirled around on him. “Now listen here. Marksman may be an entitled asshole, but that doesn’t mean I will let a mass murderer insult him! Now get off my set before I use your head as target practice!”

Dark frowned. “I’m not a murderer,” he muttered, quickly teleporting out of there.

Wilford sighed and walked back on set, apologizing to Lindsey for the confusion as he settled back on his stool, pouting as the makeup people fiddled with his blush. They left right before the live countdown, leaving nothing but the people who are meant to be on set in front of the camera.

Wilford grinned and greeted the camera, catching up any viewers who had tuned in during the break. “Now, Katherine, do we have another guest we should be getting to?” he asked, silently hoping.

“Nope,” Katherine said. “Who thinks we should continue our game?” The crowd cheered and Wilford sighed.

“Next question; Marksman, what’s Wilford’s favorite color?”

“Oh, this one is easy!” Mark laughed, jotting down the answer. Wilford jotted down the correct answer, waiting for the cue to turn their boards around.

“Blue is the correct answer,” Katherine said. Wilford blinked in shock, looking at Mark’s board.

“Most people guess pink or yellow,” he said. “I’m impressed, given you’ve never asked me my favorite color.”

“Lucky guess. What’s mine?”

“Red.”

“Yup, correct. Clever boy.” Mark ruffled his hair like a kid. 

Wilford glared weakly, batting his hand away. “I’m not a little kid,” he hissed. “And I just finished fixing this.” Wilford huffed and fixed his hair again, ignoring the ‘Ooh’s from the crowd.

Mark quirked an eyebrow. “Someone’s a bit grumpy.”

“I just dislike people touching my hair, as you should know.”

“Awww, I do, but I so love seeing you get so red.” Mark cupped his face, cooing happily. Wilford frowned and looked to the side, embarrassed. Out of the corner of his eye, a shadow flickered and gestured to a building in the distance, then whispering the word news.

Wilford grinned and pushed himself away from Mark. “Oh, dear! It would appear we have some breaking news from the Iplier Tower,” Wilford touched the mic piece in his ear. “An attack from a yet unidentified villain. Apologies, ladies, gents, and other configurations of being, it seems we have to go. Jim?” Jim picked up the camera, the other Jims followed with portable sound equipment.

“Wait, Will! I’ll fly you!” Mark tried to yell.

“Nope, I’m good, have to get the Jims there, too!”

  
  
  


Wilford breathed a sigh of relief as he stood in front of the camera, doing what he really wanted to be doing; the news. Delivering news to the people of the world. Not playing dumb games and being picked up by superheroes! He would never be taken seriously like that!

“It seems that what, exactly, this villain is doing is unknown,” Wilford commented. “We will remain posted, and update you all as the news comes.” Jim turned the camera off and looked at Wilford curiously as the news anchor sat down in the back of the van.

“What do you think he’s doing up there, Not-Jim?” he asked.

“Keeping me from the studio until my time slot is over, hopefully,” Wilford responded, taking a sip of his coffee. “Was I visibly distressed back there?”

“No, Not-Jim. I didn’t even realize you were distressed until now.” The Jims were notoriously perceptive. If they didn’t see anything, neither did anyone else. Which was good. Right. Good. Mark deserved a chance, even if he was a bit creepy.

“Should I give him a proper chance?”

“Do you want to give Super Not-Jim a chance?”

“I feel like I should.”

“That did not answer the question.”

“No, I’m going to. He deserves a chance. I mean, he did save my life a bunch.”

“Do you feel obligated to date him because he saved your life?”

“No! That would be ridiculous!”

“That is what you are doing.”

“Oh, hush, Jim!”

Wilford sighed and watched dark fly absently around the tower, thinking about Mark. Sure, he could be a jerk. And he was a bit too handsy for Wilford’s taste. But he was a good guy, right? He deserved a chance, so Wilford would give him one. It doesn’t mean he has to do anything that makes him uncomfortable, it’s just a few dates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats, you made it to the end! Originally I was going to make the Jims pretty careless about the whole situation, but then I decided that Wilford needed more friends that weren't just trying to get in his pants.
> 
> Next Chapter: Wilford's first, proper, date with Mark is interrupted by the arrival of an old friend. Mark gets jealous, and Dark starts to re-think his strategy.

**Author's Note:**

> Next up; Wilford interviews Mark, and the public gets to know they "relationship" dynamic a bit more!


End file.
